


A Guy Walks Into A Bar Without Shoes And Orders Some Obscure Cocktail

by Catastrophe641



Series: Of Cocktails and Bare Feet... [2]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Absolute Dorks, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Jokes, Bartender Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), M/M, bad language, bar jokes, like really really bad jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28613082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastrophe641/pseuds/Catastrophe641
Summary: Six years ago, some shaggy haired brunette waltzed into the bar I, Levi Ackerman, work at, shoeless of all things, and asked for my opinion for a drink…I had no fucking clue what I was expecting from someone who couldn’t even put on shoes. It certainly wasn’t that.Boy did things change.At least that’s what I’m thinking, along with ways to get away with murdering the weekend bartender, until Mike lets in a rather loud group. Their laughter echoing off the walls louder than sex in a thin walled motel. And who is it that guides them to the booth closest to the bar?None other than my shaggy haired boyfriend, who likes to ask my opinion on drinks still to this day. And dear Lord, I am going to have an aneurysm!He isn’t wearing shoes…
Relationships: Erwin Smith/Mike Zacharias, Levi/Eren Yeager
Series: Of Cocktails and Bare Feet... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096595
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	A Guy Walks Into A Bar Without Shoes And Orders Some Obscure Cocktail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BooksAreMyLoveLanguage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksAreMyLoveLanguage/gifts).



> Sequel To - Don't Ask Me To Make You Something, Then Shoot Down My First Three Suggestions
> 
> Please read it first!
> 
> Haven’t written anything in _AGES _(about 4 years), haven’t kept up with the manga for less (maybe 2 years), but a random late-night comment from BooksAreMyLoveLanguage had me re-reading a work from six years back and got me inspired to do a follow up. And I don’t even know if this ship still sails!__  
>  _  
>  _So, enjoy or don’t. I don’t really care._  
> _  
>  Please don’t take anything that follows as meaning offense or as being a representation of who I am personally. People make bad jokes; I was simply trying to cover all bases for realistic purposes. This is a work of fiction.  
> 

_Someone_ had called in sick…again, and I was pissed. It was supposed to the beginning of my vacation days. I was supposed to be curled up at home, book in hand, with a fine glass of whiskey, and Netflix droning some inconsequential, bullshit show in the background so it wasn’t too quiet. My muscles should have been relaxed, my feet unconstrained by the bonds of my boot laces. Nothing kinky tonight.

But instead, I was behind the bar once again, because the damn weekend bartender (Jacques, who even names their kid that!) couldn’t keep his tongue in his own mouth. He had mono for the third time in two months. The rat headed, little fucker was going to die by my hands if he did this one more time!

Screw anyone under the age of twenty-five. Actually, screw everyone under the age of thirty-five.

They don’t mature quick enough these days.

But who am I to talk really? I am the guy shacking up with a shaggy haired, young blood who unceremoniously dropped himself into my life…while not wearing shoes of all things. In this very bar.

That was six years ago. Boy do things change.

Erwin still comes in on Mondays and Fridays like clockwork, but he doesn’t order anything. He just waits for Mike’s shift to end so they can go home. Did I mention he finally hit on Mike sober? Yeah, that happened! Thank _FUCK_ he no longer lives across the hall from me. They moved in together three years ago. They seem happy. Mike’s still a creepy ass fucker though with that nose! Which is still the size of Jupiter, buy the way. And I mean ass fucker literally. Who’d a thought?

The brunette, I finally learned her name (it’s Hanji), still comes in on Sunday nights doing statistical work. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I don’t work the weekend shift anymore, thank whatever higher power for that. Or I shouldn’t be. Here’s looking at you, _Jacques_! She also comes in on Wednesday nights. We share a shot of tequila before she insists on pestering the assholes who hit on those who don’t want the attention. She’s actually, dare I say it, _good_ for business.

The guy who always took the back booth got a divorce when his wife found out about his affair. Now the wife sits in the back booth twice a week ruefully wondering what she did wrong. It’s kind of sad. I give her a free drink every night and she never notices.

The secretly bisexual homophobe finally got over himself. He and his buddy have been together for six months. Haven’t seen the chick in a while so I guess she felt like a third wheel. Can’t say I blame her.

Yeah, things change. Probably for the better.

At least that’s what I’m thinking, along with ways to get away with murder, until Mike lets in a rather loud group. Their laughter echoing off the walls louder than sex in a thin-walled motel. And who is it that guides them to the booth closest to the bar?

None other than my shaggy haired boyfriend, who likes to ask _my_ opinion on drinks _still to this day_. And dear Lord, I am going to have an aneurysm!

He isn’t wearing shoes…

______________________

“A round of beer over here, yeah?” Some long-faced moron, who works with Eren calls out as they all maneuver into the bench seat. There’s five of them including Eren. Four guys and a girl. The girl looks disinterested. Levi knows it’s no farce either. She really is disinterested. Mikasa hates bars, though this one slightly less than others.

Levi sets down the glass he was washing and stares the kid down. “Who died and made you boss?” Is his retort as he turns to fill a pitcher with cheap beer, knowing Eren will get stuck with the tab. Meaning Levi will have to cover it. Fuck that.

It’s hushed, but Levi hears it. “Geeze, what crawled up his ass and died?”

“Shut up, Jean.” Comes Eren’s reply. “That’s my boyfriend you horse faced, douche canoe.”

With a full pitcher and several glasses, Levi heads for the booth with practiced ease. Steps quiet and careful. And without even sloshing the liquid around, he set it all upon the table. With an even more practiced ease he levels Eren with a stare that would chase Satan out of Hell.

“Where the fuck are your shoes?” He demands.

Eren looks to his feet and back up to Levi. “Uh…” He hesitates. His toes wiggle. “You don’t wanna know.”

A blonde headed boy snickers in the far corner of the booth causing Levi to raise a single brow. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

Mikasa pipes up. “No, Levi. You really _don’t_ wanna know.”

His lip curls in disgust as he processes all the possibilities. Eren has the audacity to look sheepish.

Like that helps.

“I’m _not_ buying you _another_ pair of shoes.” And back to the bar he goes.

Business is starting to pick up after all. And even if Levi doesn’t want to be here, he has a job to do. He runs a rag across the bar top real quick and then heads for the ginger kid at the far end of the bar.

“What can I get ya?”

Glass after glass he fills. Some want shaken; some things stirred. He mixes and mixes like his life depends on it. And it kind of does. This is his profession after all. He checks back in with Eren, bringing a fresh pitcher of beer when he notices theirs grow empty. But he’s nice like that. Likes Eren enough to overlook his douche friend and let them have a good time.

The minute he reaches the table he regrets it.

Regrets it _BIG_ time.

Horse face, _Jean_ (how pretentious where his folks?), is telling a joke.

“Comic Sans, Helvetica, and Times New Roman walk into a bar.” Oh, this is great, just swell. ““Get out!” shouts the barman. “We don’t serve your type here!”” And then he wheezes. Fucking wheezes as he laughs at his own joke. The dark-haired guy next to him, Marco (Levi thinks that’s his name), softly laughs along to help fill the absolute silence from the other three.

“That was bad.” Mikasa deadpans. And she’s right. It really was bad. Like badder than bad, the absolute worst and Levi promptly leaves. He goes back behind the relative safety of his bar and tends it. Like the _good_ employee he is. “What’ll it be?”

Unfortunately, he isn’t as safe as he’d like to be. This is because Eren and his group have chosen the booth closest to the bar and they are _loud_. Like annoying neighbors blowing of fireworks at three AM the day after new year’s _loud_. Like my house is so wonderfully situated by the train tracks _loud_. They are the roommate who likes to blast his heavy metal anthems at midnight _loud_.

And Levi gets to hear every stupid, ridiculous, obnoxious, offensive, uncalled for _joke_.

I mean who knew how many “so a guy walks into a bar” jokes actually existed in the universe?

Some obscure gods probably. But apparently, Eren and his friends do too.

So when Jean says: “So a five-dollar bill walks into a bar, and the bartender says, “Hey. This is a singles bar.””

Eren follows with: “Two friends are walking their dogs together. One has a big black lab, while the other has a minuscule chihuahua. They pass a bar and the lab owner says, “Let’s get a beer.” The chihuahua walker complains, “That would be great, but we can’t take our dogs in there.”

The first responds, “Watch me.” The lab owner strolls in with her dog and orders a beer. The bartender tells her, “Sorry, you can’t bring your dog in here.” “He’s my seeing eye dog,” the woman replies feigning offense. The bartender quickly apologizes and serves her the beer. The other woman follows, her chihuahua in tow, and orders a beer as well.

Again the bartender says there are no dogs allowed in the bar. “He’s my seeing eye dog,” the woman replies. “Yeah, right,” the bartender says, “A chihuahua? Give me a break.” Without missing a beat, the woman replies, “They gave me a chihuahua?!””

Which Armin responds to with: “A screwdriver rolls into a bar. The bartender says, “Hey, we have a drink named after you!” The screwdriver squeals, “You have a drink named Philip?””

Then Marco says: “The barman says, “We don’t serve time travelers in here.” A time traveler walks into a bar.”

Mikasa just stares at them for a while as they go back and forth, then pushes Eren out of the way so she can head to the restrooms. And just in time too.

Because Jean has a doozy: “A penguin walks into a bar. The bartender says, “So what will it be this time?” The penguin doesn’t answer because it’s a penguin.”

There’s that wheeze again.

Then, as if the universe is working against Levi, some random dude at the bar chimes in: “A weasel walks into a bar. The bartender says, “Wow I’ve never served a weasel before, what can I get you?” “Pop”, goes the weasel.”

To which a lady who was approaching the bar follows up: “A run-on sentence walks into a bar it starts flirting. With a cute little sentence fragment.”

And suddenly Levi watches as everyone gets involved. And it’s horrifying. He pinches himself, because this is just a bad dream, right? A really bad dream? But it’s not. The pinch hurts, but he doesn’t wake.

He’s still there behind the bar listening as all these people throw out the worst jokes he’s ever heard. He’s a bartender for crying out loud and it’s almost offensive. And for a moment he wonders if it could possibly get any worse.

He shouldn’t have.

Because he hears Hanji’s obnoxious laugh ring out and then she is screeching: “A dyslexic man walks into a bra…” And cackles as she finishes.

Someone is slapping a knee, another hitting the table.

The whole situation is utterly ridiculous, and Levi doesn’t know what to do. So, he works. He throws himself into the drinks.

Lady wants an Arnold Palmer. Done.

Dude wants a Black Russian. Easy.

Chick asks for a Chi-Chi. Wham!

Someone requests a Dark N Fluffy. Coming right up!

He slams them out. One after another.

Electric Iced Tea. Friar Tuck. Gibson. Harvey Wallbanger. Idonis. Jack O’Lantern. Kumquat-Ginger Caipirinha. Long Island Iced Tea. Mai Tai. New England Sour. Orchard Catch Cooler. Painkiller. Rhubarb-Rosemary Daiquiri. Salty-Dog. Tom And Jerry. Vampire’s Kiss. Woo Woo. Yellow Submarine. Zombie Punch.

He makes them all to the backdrop of bad jokes.

“An Irishman walked out of a bar.” Followed by raucous laughter and the clanging of glass.

“Two guys walk into a bar. The third one ducks.” A couple of people whistle.

“Two dragons walk into a bar. One says to the other, "It's hot in here." The other snaps back, "Shut your mouth!"” People boo that one.

It’s getting late at this point. Levi hollers for last call. He cleans the bar in between people filing through to close their tabs. The jokes persist, some even continuing as they leave. Mike has to escort several people out who want to hang around and keep joking.

Levi just shakes his head as he washes glasses. From the mirror behind the bar he sees Eren bid his friends good night. Hugs and handshakes all around. Promises to meet up again soon are made. And then the shaggy haired, no-shoe-wearing fiend plants himself on a barstool and smiles at Levi in the mirror.

He can’t even help himself, Levi smiles back, because the look in Eren’s eyes is just so helplessly in love sappy that it gets to him.

“A guy walks into a bar without shoes and orders some obscure cocktail.” He says to Levi.

Gets an eye roll in response, because that really _should_ be the start of a bad joke. But it isn’t. It’s the start of their story, of their lives together and if that isn’t ridiculous, well Levi doesn’t know what is. So, he turns to Eren and raises a brow.

“What’s the punchline?” He asks.

Eren smiles wider, eyes glinting mischievously. “There isn’t one.” But his tone doesn’t sound truthful at all.

“Uh-huh.” Levi grumbles. “Sure.”

Eren laughs softly, eyes dancing along the bar top. “We should head home. You almost done?”

“Yeah, Mike said he’d lock up and sweep.”

With a quick good night to Mike, they head for the door. Eren thumbs the black velvet box in his pocket a moment before deciding that now isn’t the best time. Not after so many bad jokes just got thrown around. Levi might not take him seriously.

He pulls his hand back out and takes Levi’s in his. Squeezes gently to show he loves him. And Levi responds in turn, squeezing back. Eyes crinkling in the soft bar lights as they exit.

The night is finally silent, sky clear and filled with stars. It’s a lovely moment, Eren thinks. And no sooner has that thought crossed his mind than the moment is ruined by Levi himself.

“Two deer walk out of a gay bar. One of them turns to the other and says, “I can't believe I blew forty bucks in there.” Levi states with total seriousness.

Eren’s laughter rings out like bells in the night, to the drumming of their footsteps.

And it is at that moment, as the sound of skin on pavement reaches his ears, that Levi remembers…

“What the _fuck_ happened to your shoes!?”


End file.
